This is a story that I began last winter, when I was going through a somewhat difficult time with my parents. Once I got a job, the difficulties quickly faded (for the most part), so I didn't really know how to finish the story, since I could no longer put myself in Sasha's place. Oh well... It's still good, even though it's unfinished. Enjoy!
Steel banged against steel, poles contracting, as Sasha let go of the handle of the weight machine. He lay there on the bench, breathing heavily. A shadow fell over his body and he looked up.
An upside-down face, fat and mean, was glaring back at him. "Are you done or what?" Sasha did not respond. "Hey you, are you done with the benching machine??"
Sasha just glared right back, still trying to catch his breath. The large man was getting red in the face, shocked that the kid wouldn't respond. Finally, Sasha got up, continuing to scowl at the man, and walked away.
He walked over to the exercise mats and began to stretch. A bunch of guys shoved past him, laughing and talking loudly.
"Aw shit, man! Did ya see the muscles on that girl? She looked like she was pumpin' up!" The rest guffawed.
"Hey, whadda we gotta do for Lit by Monday, Phil?" One guy said.
"Yo' mama!" The one in question laughed. They all groaned. "Naw, man, I think we have to make a list of those stories we read last term and talk about them, like our opinions and shit."
Opinions and shit, Sasha noted disgustedly. That's real eloquent.
"Hey Tom," said another guy. "So are ya making it with Cynthia or what?" There was a roar of laughter.
"Yeah c'mon dude! Is she as fiesty in bed as she is on the debate team??"
"Fuck, shut up, man!" Tom, one of the shyer guys, looked embarrassed. "I don't want to talk about it!"
There was a lull. The guys looked surprised. "Uh, ok, Tom," Phil said. "It's no big deal." They all looked at each other, at a loss. Tom looked at the floor, and then up at Sasha. Sasha glanced at him, looked away, got up and headed into the locker room.
Steam drifted toward him as he opened the door. Tom used to be his best friend back in junior high. Sasha always felt like the leader of the two since Tom was so shy, he was the instigator, the main character, and Tom was his sidekick. Like Robin is to Batman, he used to tell Tom. Good friends... but something just wasn't quite right. Once they hit high school, they started to drift apart. By sophomore year, Tom was walking through the halls with his loud group of friends, and barely gave Sasha a second glance when they passed each other.
Sasha opened his locker and grabbed his towel, headed to the shower. Turning the cold water on full blast, still in his workout clothes, he closed his eyes and waited for the water to numb him. After five minutes, he was freezing cold but could feel every inch of it. Nothing ever works right for me, he thought. He wrapped his towel around himself, swaddling his body like he was ready for the Arctic, and walked back to his locker.
The hulking man from earlier was sitting on the bench, looking annoyed. Sasha opened his locker with a clang and began dumping his things onto the bench, most of which landed on the floor instead. As he began changing, the man put a hand on his shoulder. Sasha yanked away forcefully.
"Calm down, kid." The man said. His face was more of a normal color now, and he just looked unhappy more than anything. "I just wanted to ask you the time."
Sasha didn't move for a moment. Then he took his watch out of his jacket pocket. "It's five minutes to 12."
"Thanks."
Sasha finished changing and stuffed his towel and sweaty workout clothes into his bag. He put on his jacket, zipped it up, and was about to leave when the man spoke up again.
"You know, you're no better or worse than those boys," he said. "You shouldn't resent them. I saw the way you looked. I know how those groups are. But that doesn't make you different from them."
Sasha shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about," he replied angrily, still facing away from the man. "They couldn't be more different than me." He left quickly, the man's words fading.
"Don't let your intelligence delude you..." The door shut behind him.
Sasha stepped outside into the February slushy ground. It was cold and yet somehow bits of green were poking out of the snow, reaching for the sun, as if trying to defy the season. The trees were still bare, though.
As he walked back to his house, his eyes began to tear up from the wind. He brushed them away hard, frustrated. Nature can't make me cry if I don't want to! His thoughts were jumbled, snarling branches entwining together, giving him a headache.
(Run away Run away)
He hated living at home. His parents used to be such nice people. Now they were just monsters.
(snapping at my feet OH GOD)
Well, maybe not monsters. Maybe just frustrated people. Supposedly just wanting him to be happy. After all, he had no job, no girlfriend, no real friends, he wasn't even in school. He tried college for a year and hated it. High school had ended up being a dull hell for him, and college was just like high school only with more idiots to deal with. He couldn't stand it.
Sasha stepped up to his front door and pulled out his keys. As he unlocked the door, it swung open, and there was his mother, standing on the other side. She looked extremely irritated.
"Uh... Hi, Mom..." Sasha stammered. "Something wrong?" His mother stepped aside and let him enter. Luke, his father, was sitting on the couch in the living room, looking equally upset. A large box with Sasha's name on it was sitting next to the coffee table.
"Sasha, what is this?" Luke asked.
Sasha pulled the box toward him. It had a well-known internet store name on it, and it was addressed to him. It was also as big as a large TV. "It's my package. I ordered some things online. So?"
"What did you get?" His mother asked cynically.
"Uh... Just some stuff... New speakers for my computer... A couple books..." His voice got a little quieter. "Some new computer games..."
"And with what money did you buy those things?"
Sasha looked at his feet. His father tapped him to make him look up. His eyes were filled with disappointment. "Answer your mother."
Sasha gave a little scared sigh. "The... the money you gave me."
"The $300 we gave you that was meant to last you two months? That money?" His mother's voice was rising. "The money we gave you saying "You need to keep track of a budget, and this is the last money we're giving you because you need to get your own job"?? What were you thinking? How... How much did this all cost?? No, no, I don't even want to know. I don't even care. I can't believe you just threw away all that money!"
"It wasn't all the money!" Sasha cried. "And it's not throwing it all away... Don't the books mean anything??"
His parents looked at each other. "Just because some of it isn't a waste of time doesn't mean it's not a waste of money," his father said. "You didn't even think about the fact that you were supposed to make this money last. And buying a book once in a while is fine, but you can always go to the library. But... But... That's not even the point. You're living under this roof. We're still paying for your room."
"We own the house!" Sasha groaned.
"Stop changing the subject," his father snapped. "And we pay for your food, and we bought you your computer, and we pay for your internet bill, and we're paying for your car. And you haven't so much as even attempted to get a job of your own, so you could take some responsibility and pay some of your own bills! If you were in school, maybe you could get away with needing more dependence, but you don't do anything with your time!"
(SNAP bleeding everywhere…)
"But I... I..."
"I don't want to hear any more excuses. Don't tell me again that no place is going to hire you because you have no experience. You have to start somewhere and work your way to a decent job. And you'll probably have to go through a hundred crappy, low-paying jobs before you get a job you really love. That's how life is! I had to do that when I was young, and now I have a great job that I enjoy. And eventually, you'll find something of your own too. But you have to stop being so afraid and actually go and look for a goddamn job!"
"The point is," his mother chimed in again. "We can't support you anymore. We're not going to pay all these bills of yours. How much money do you have left?"
Sasha blinked, trying not to feel like an interrogated criminal. "Ah... A little over $100, I think."
His mother shook her head in disgust. "Well. It... The next internet bill that comes, you're paying it. And the one after that, and the one after that. And if you can't deal, then I guess you'll just have to sacrifice the internet. And we're not paying your car payments anymore. So unless you can somehow come up with that money, I guess they'll have to repossess it."
(say goodbye all this)
Sasha's mouth dropped open. "No! Not... Not the Jeep! It... You can't... Please!"
"Sasha, stop whining," his father said. "You're 21 years old, and you have to get it together. I'm just sorry it had to happen like this. But you have to be more independent. You can't live here forever."
"But... But... No..." Sasha could feel his head pounding away. "My car is how I get everywhere! Please, I can't, I, I... Give me another chance!"
(Have to get away NOW)
"We already gave you another chance. Again and again. This ends it, Sasha. You have to face the consequences of what you've done. That's the end of it. If you want the car, get a job. It's that simple."
"But it's not! There won't be enough time, even if I got a job tomorrow!! I can't... It's impossible! Please... Not so fast... My car!"
"Stop it Sasha, just stop it! We don't like having to do it this way, but if this is what it takes to get the message throught to you, then this is what we have to do."
(RUN NOW run!)
Sasha let out a little moan as if he was about to cry. Instead, he bolted to his room and shut the door tightly. "This isn't happening," he whispered to himself. "No. No. No." He locked his door and curled up in a little ball on his bed, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and covering his face.
Footsteps came up the stairs, and there was a knock at his door. "Come on, Sasha," it was his mother. "We really need to talk more about this. Please come out."
Sasha sucked in his breath deeply, shaking, let it out... I'm fine, he told himself. And then burst into tears.
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